


Afternoon Tea with Mrs. Turner

by SherlockMalfoy



Series: Sherlock!Wizardverse Drabbles - Drarry [11]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Afternoon Tea, Gen, Gossip, Sillyness, Unexpected News, mrs. turner keeps trying to set people up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 18:15:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5712241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockMalfoy/pseuds/SherlockMalfoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since meeting Sherlock's landlady, Harry has often visited with her for tea. Today is Harry's first meeting with the Baker Street Gossip... Mrs. Turner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Afternoon Tea with Mrs. Turner

Harry sat in the comfortable sitting room of Mrs. Turner’s flat with said woman and Mrs. Hudson, who had invited him along. He’d just started his second cup of tea, and Mrs. Turner had yet to stop chattering.

“…So there she was, bold as brass I tell you, and just smirking, proud as you please.” The old woman gave a curt nod, picked up her teacup and took a determined sip. Then she continued. “Well, you know old Morgan wasn’t going to have any of that! He went straight to the butchers down by Regents and he says to the man at the counter ‘Oi! Why’d you give me wife the wrong cut of beef?!’ and so he says back to him…”

Mrs. Hudson leaned in close to whisper to Harry. “Glenda will go on like this for hours, daft old bird, this one.”

Harry hid his smile and laugh quickly behind a chocolate biscuit.

Mrs. Turner seemed to finally be winding down a few minutes later, pleased with herself. “…And then you wouldn’t believe what that old codger Seamus Finnigan told me just yesterday-“

Harry nearly choked on his tea when she’d said that name. Mrs. Hudson handed him a napkin. “Are you alright, Harrison?” she asked in the same tone she often took with John when Sherlock said something upsetting. Harry nodded, wiping at his mouth and holding up a hand to silently and politely indicate he would be alright in a moment.

When he was sure he wasn’t going to choke again, he set the napkin down in his lap. “Did, did you say Seamus Finnigan?” he asked, an edge of caution to his voice.

If Mrs. Turner noticed it, she didn’t say a word. “You know him then?” she asked, blinking at him as if just noticing his presence. Then she continued with her story. “Oh, yes. Well, Seamus said-“

“Irish?” Harry asked, hopeful. He hadn’t heard news of his old friend since just after he and Draco had returned from Venice. “Tends to blow things up that really shouldn’t be able to?”

“That’s the one,” Mrs. Hudson confirmed, giving a nod. “Him and that lovely Dean Thomas. I swear they used to have the fire brigade ‘round every other day. I think these days emergency services just ignores their calls now. Shame. If something happened to them, we’d be hard put to find replacement bridge partners.”

Harry’s heart beat faster, and he knew the chances were slim. But more and more he felt like these two batty old muggles had stumbled across his old wizard friends.

Mrs. Turner snapped up a biscuit, feeling a bit put out that her story was interrupted twice now. And she seemed very annoyed when she spoke again. “Well, Martha, who’s this then? He’s hardly said a word since the pair of you got here.” She crunched the biscuit between her dentures and watched him with beady little eyes.

Harry smiled, again, politely and was about to answer. But Mrs. Hudson beat him to it.

“Glenda, no need to be such a sour grape. You’ll get to tell us all about what Seamus told you in a moment.”

“It’s nothing,” Mrs. Turner said quickly, but both Harry and Mrs. Hudson knew it meant a great deal to her.

“You hardly gave me a chance to tell you,” Mrs. Hudson said. “This is one of my Sherlock’s parents,” she continued.

Mrs. Turner continued to watch him, and Harry shifted in his seat uncomfortably. He hated when people looked at him like that. Except Draco, or his children, of course. Them he could handle. This daft old woman… maybe not. “Really?” she said, then suddenly she seemed so much less imposing. “I was wondering where I’d seen that hair before.” Then, she looked thoughtful for a moment. “I’ll have to introduce you to my dear Katrina-“

“Glenda, Harrison is very happily married,” Mrs. Hudson snapped, reaching over to pat Harry’s arm lightly. “Don’t pay her any mind. She’s always trying to set people up with her sister. Thinks it’s improper for a woman her age to spend so much time by herself.”

Harry didn’t quite know what to say as the women exchanged barbs. He’d had girls arguing over him before. Ginny and Romilda Vane were quite vocal about it for a bit, more so after Ginny had found him with Draco. But that had been nearly a hundred years ago now. But he’d never-

“Excuse me, ladies,” Harry managed to get in when they’d each stopped for breath. “I don’t mean to be rude,” he said, feeling his cheeks burn as if he were a teenager again. Which was silly because he was much older than both of the women with whom he was taking tea. “I can see you dearly love your sister Katrina, but I’m afraid I must insist that I am a very bad match. My Drake is a very jealous man, and even if I weren’t married I believe he’d have much to say on the subject of how poor a husband I’d make for your sister.”

Despite the furious flush of his cheeks, he took a sip of his tea and waited for the silence to break. Mrs. Hudson gave him a warm, endearing smile. Mrs. Turner was watching him again before saying, “In that case, my dear cousin William-“

“Give it a rest, Glenda,” Mrs. Hudson snapped, then scooted to the edge of her seat. She looked at Harry sweetly. “More tea love?”

“Oh yes please,” he said, offering him his near empty cup.

Mrs. Turner snatched up another biscuit and sat back in her chair, feeling quite put out. After a few moments of awkward silence, Harry tried to sound cheerful, and was actually quite interested to hear about what the pushy old woman was told by Seamus Finnigan. “So,” he said. “You were telling us about what Seamus told you yesterday?”

At this, Mrs. Turner nodded, ate her biscuit that she’d been sitting there contemplating since she’d picked it up, and began her rambling tale again. Mrs. Hudson gave him a subtle nod, and he returned it with one of his own.


End file.
